


The Can-Can That Never Was

by cleo4u2, xantissa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aggressive Hawke, April Fools' Day, Crossdressing, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Job, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Show tunes, Stony - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 01:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14706699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: The perfect prank almost ruin's Tony's favorite holiday, but Steve Rogers knows how to turn everything around.





	The Can-Can That Never Was

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the one and only Glow Cloud, [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile). ALL HAIL.

The Avengers know Tony's favorite holiday is April Fool's Day, which means he's spent weeks coming up with the perfect, personalized prank, for each of them. With Pepper announcing their on-again, off-again, relationship was off for good, he had needed the distraction. On April Fool’s morning, he plants himself in the common room, waiting to see if Clint likes his new, hot pink arrows, or if Natasha has realized her bug scanner is set off on a timer and not to any actual listening devices, when the elevators slide open. Natasha and Clint exit in sweats, chatting about going to the range later, and Tony does his best to hide his disappointment. When Thor and Bruce join them a few minutes later, he's equally disappointed that Bruce's hair is still brown and Thor's hand is not adhered to his hammer. They're not the best pranks he's ever pulled, but they're the warm up that will make them drop their guards later.

...and he wanted to see the results, damn it.

The elevator opens again and Tony doesn't look up. Steve had experienced one April 1st with him already, and spent the rest avoiding Tony's pranks. At least he doesn't make an effort to leave the country like Pepper and Rhodey, but Tony doesn't expect any of his pranks to work on their melted popsicle.

The first refrains of a piano piped through Jarvis' speakers gets his attention and he looks up, only for his jaw to drop. Not only has his prank worked, and Steve's hair is a bright, royal blue, he's dressed in a skirt and corset. Not any skirt and corset, either. It's the outfit the USO girls wore when Steve promoted war bonds, and it fitted to his triangular torso like a glove. Tony knows that, technically, Steve doesn't have tits, but his chest is pushed up and squeezed in, so the round muscle looks like perfect breasts. And his legs; they go on for miles.

Steve doesn't give Tony the time to process what his eyes are seeing. He opens his mouth and sings, "If you got it, flaunt it," and steps out of the elevator in a long, leg flashing slide. "Step right up and strut your stuff."

Tony is too shocked to laugh, or realize his mouth is doing an impression of a fly catcher for half of the song. There's not much dancing, but Steve has spent time and energy to learn the song and created choreography to the lyrics, including a shimmy for, "You want Ulla dance?" that has Clint and Natasha wolf whistling, while Bruce and Thor cheer.

The dance does nothing to help Tony's brain ignite and return to life. In fact, it ensures the lizard bits take over as a certain part of him gets most of the blood in his body, and he has to cross his legs to hide just how good he thinks Steve looks in that outfit. He's pretty sure he's hidden his attraction to Steve from everyone but Pepper, but he's not so sure when Steve pauses at the end of a verse, leans forward so his cleavage is in Tony's face, and purrs, "You want Ulla dance again?"

Tony doesn't react any differently from the men in the Producers: he stumbles out a _yes,_ and his head flops like a fish as he nods eagerly. Steve actually smirks at him, a lock of that blue hair falling into his eyes, and steps back.

As Tony starts to wonder if, maybe, there's something wrong with Steve and he should be concerned, Steve holds his hands out to Clint and Natasha. The assassins actually spin into him, then away and rip off their sweats to reveal outfits identical to Steve's, down to the star spangled flats and tight corsets. The three perform Ulla's shimmy, and Tony is smart enough to know they're fucking with him, but he doesn't care enough to wonder how, or why. Not with Steve informing him, "Now Ulla belt," and launching into a refrain that would do Mel Brooks proud. Tony had no idea Steve could sing that well.

The trio starts a can-can that is threatening to melt the circuits in Tony's brain, legs flashing higher than their heads - and when did Barton get such nice legs? Wait, did they SHAVE?! - when Thor and Bruce join in. The five of them are can-canning as Steve sings and this really is the best holiday.

Tony's brain finally comes online as the song winds down. The team has maneuvered to the elevator, as Steve sings the final, "If you got it, shout out hooray!" Thor's muscles are threatening to burst out of the outfit, Bruce looks more than a little embarrassed, and Nat and Clint dart forward and snag the clothing discarded during the outfit changes.

"April Fool's!" Clint and Natasha shout.

Thor yells, "We have conquered the trickster!"

Bruce points at him calmly and declares, “This never happened.”

Then Steve winks and confirms what Tony's brain finally told him, "And no one will ever believe you if you tell them."

As Tony fumbles for his cell phone, hoping to snag a picture, they climb into the elevator and the doors slide shut.

"JARVIS?" Tony whispers. His dick hurts. "Did you... Did you record that?"

"I'm afraid all cameras on this floor have malfunctioned, sir."

Tony wants to cry, or scream, because Steve is right. No one in the entire world would believe Steve Rogers, paragon of virtue, would dress in miniskirt, corset, and skimpy underwear, dye his hair, and can-can while singing show tunes. No one would believe the other Avengers had joined in like a flash mob. 

No one at all.

\----

As Tony prepares for bed, he decides that day has been the best and worst April Fool's Day he has ever had. The best part was obvious: Captain America and the Avengers dancing a goddamn _can-can_ three inches from his nose. That can-can and flash mob performance would likely to be his favorite memory. The problem is, it would _only_ ever be a memory. No matter how he had tried, he couldn’t find any video, or image of the Avengers performing, or rehearsing.

JARVIS is in on it, not that the AI would say as much. 

Worst of all, Tony had been so consumed with his search he’d forgotten to set off the rest of the pranks. His one day to be creative, go all out, and fuck with everyone without hurting them, gone. His low-level hard-on is not helping. Though he respected his teammates, they were damn hot, and having them flashing him their underwear as a provocative tease, with Steve Rogers - the worst (best?) of them all - kept him aroused the entire day.

And he’ll never see it again!

Flopping onto the bed, Tony pouts at the ceiling as the image of the white panties beneath Captain-goddamn-America’s skirt replay in front of his eyes. He wonders if they had been cotton, or silk. How he would love to find out, but he can’t imagine going down to Steve’s floor, knocking, then asking to feel up his panties. Steve’s face would be hilarious if he did. It would get stuck between outrage and hilarity, how it did when Tony asked for something outrageous. Like Steve knew he should chastise Tony, but was a little too amused to pull it off. And he’d blush; Steve always reacted with charming blushes when shamelessly propositioned.

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupts the fantasy of what might happen if he did have the nerve to ask, “Captain Rogers is here to see you.”

Tony blinks.

“What’s he wearing?” he blurts, because if it’s another miniskirt Tony can’t be held responsible for his actions.

“Jogging bottoms and a shirt, sir.”

“Shame.” Tony sighs and makes himself sit up, but he doesn’t actually climb out of bed. Instead he yells, “In here, Cap!”

A few steps into his bedroom, and Tony knows Steve’s freshly showered. His hair is damp, curling lightly at the ends which are still blue. It’s evidence of nothing except Tony putting dye in his shampoo bottle, but it matches Steve’s eyes and Tony’s a little captivated. Part of him - okay most of him - hopes Steve keeps the look. At least he won’t have to request the shirt. 

The thing with Steve, is that any fitting shirt is nearly as indecent as the damn miniskirt. Nor does he have to wear a corset to make his pecs look like a pair of perfect D-cups, straining the white cotton to the limit. Tony can even see the clear shape of Steve’s nipples. They’re tight and perky, goddamn it, and how is Tony supposed to deal with that? How? 

“Hey, Tony.” Steve smiles, all dimples and rainbows, and Tony still hates how much he looks like a perfect Boy Scout. “You okay?”

Tony blinks again, rapidly.

“You’re here to ask if I’m okay?”

“Well,” Steve shrugs, “we noticed it’s been a rather quiet April Fool's Day. You aren’t mad, or upset, or -”

“No,” Tony says quickly, needing that thought banished out of Steve’s head. More of Steve being wild and free is exactly what the world needs. “I just… forgot.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Forgot?”

“Between the miniskirts and the shaved legs, I lacked the memory space to run multiple processes simultaneously.”

For once, Steve doesn’t look confused by Tony’s techno-babble. He smirks, that same man-eating grin he’d had when he’d shoved his cleavage in Tony’s face.

“Did I fry your circuits, Tony?”

“I need to stop educating you,” Tony grumbles, not-so-subtly crossing his legs as his cock sees that look on Steve’s face and leaps up to give Steve a salute. 

“How about I edjucate you, for once.” 

“Huh?”

Steve walks to the bed, close enough Tony can imagine Steve climbing onto it, over him, pushing his legs apart, and - “Fuck,” he mumbles, then thinks, ‘ _Down boy_.’ They don’t need for their relationship to become awkward because Steve’s body is literally perfection. Perfection created by his father - Yep, that worked.

That smirk is still on Steve’s lips when he says, “You wanna find out what my mouth feels like, Tony?”

For the second time that day, Tony’s brain shuts off as Steve puts a knee on the bed, and it dips slightly under his weight. The tiny movement feels like geological plates shifting, like Tony is a helpless victim to Steve’s gravitational pull.

“Uh,” is all he can spew, as he’s too busy staring at Steve, mouth once again trying to catch flies.

Steve smiles, wide and dazzling.

“Education is important, Tony,” Steve purrs, and he reaches for Tony’s hips. Big, strong, calloused hands pull him to the edge of the bed, so his legs fall off and feet hit the floor, and Tony makes a sound, okay? He would like to meet anyone who wouldn’t make a sound in this situation. High pitched and helpless with hunger, embarrassing enough he hopes JARVIS isn’t recording, but Steve is looming over him in all his star-spangled perfection and Tony has dreamed of this moment, fantasized of it, masterbated to it, and it’s happening, or he’s died and someone fucked up and he’s in Heaven.

With gentle fingers between his thighs, Steve pushes his legs apart and steps between them. Slowly he sinks to his knees, holding Tony’s gaze, and Tony forgets how to breathe. He gasps his first breath when Steve’s hands slide beneath the elastic of his sleeping shorts. He tries to say Steve’s name, but nothing comes out but a long wheeze, and then Steve is pulling off his shorts, and he’s naked beneath, and Steve’s palms feel like fire as they slide down his thighs. 

Tony knows what Steve intends, but part of him is screeching, _‘Not real, not real, not real!’_

“You’re going to educate me?” his mouth says stupidly. His voice is hoarse and his cock is so swollen it’s straining in the air, swaying, red tipped and angry. That is Steve’s fault, though. Him and that damn miniskirt and panties.

“Yes,” Steve purrs. His long lashes fan against his cheeks as he looks down at Tony's cock, pretty, long and golden like sunshine. Then Steve gives Tony the the coyest look Tony’s ever received, punctuated when Steve leans down and licks a long, wet, filthy stripe over the head.

Tony jerks his hips up and then down while frantically trying to hold still so Steve can continue his lessons. He whimpers at the pleasure, at the soft, slick slide of Steve’s tongue, but only a little.

“Jesus, I never thought I’d want to go back to school.”

“So you’re ready to study?”

Tony does not laugh because Steve’s mouth is about to be on his dick, but he wants to. The metaphor, or dirty talk, or whatever Steve thinks he’s doing has gone way to far, but fuck, if Steve stops Tony might die of a heart attack.

“Yes,” he says, and and nods for good measure, afraid suddenly that Steve might take his flailing, or pause, as rejection.

Steve is, thankfully, not discouraged. He just wraps his hand around Tony’s cock and bends his neck again. More whimpers escape him at the feeling of hot, moist breath before Steve’s lips wrap about his tip. All breath leaves him as Steve doesn't tease, doesn’t just lick, but takes everything he can fit into his mouth. Tight, wet warmth envelops half of Tony’s cock and his hands fly to Steve’s head. Not pulling, god not forcing, but he needs to touch, feel that this is real and not just a daydream. 

Steve goes to town on him. Sucking hard and fast, wet and messy, and Tony’s eyes cross and roll into his head. It’s only the grip on Steve’s hair that keeps him from falling back onto the bed as pleasure overwhelms his senses. He barely has the capacity to wonder where Steve learned to perform tricks like these with his tongue. Sparks are flying behind his eyes, and he realizes he’s moaning only when his ears register the sound.

“Steve,” Tony gasps, and it’s all the warning he can offer. He’s coming in Steve’s mouth - into _Captain America’s_ mouth - and fireworks are flashing behind his eyelids. Which are closed. It’s dark because his eyes are closed, and Steve is chuckling, and gentle hands are pulling at his shirt, pulling it off. 

It’s nice. Thick forearms scoop him up, move him into the middle of the bed. Finally, Tony gets his eyes to open, and it’s blessed timing. Steve is _stripping_. Sure, he’s seen Steve in various stages of undress before, but never after a blowjob, and _certainly_ not when Steve is hard as a rock. Even if he had, Tony doesn’t think it will ever not be amazing. Damn, all those glorious, gorgeous muscles. The fact they are being exposed _for_ him, makes a world of difference.

“Hey, handsome,” Steve murmurs when he realizes Tony is staring, “how’re you feeling?”

“Pretty sure I’m dead,” Tony’s mouth says of its own accord, “and someone has fucked up and let me into Heaven.”

Steve snorts and the bed dips a second time with his weight. After having his dick in Steve’s mouth, Tony doesn’t hesitate to reach out and slide a hand along Steve’s side as he crawls closer. His skin is soft and hot. _Steve_ is hot, both literally and figuratively. There are no marks of all that he’s has been through, which seems strange, but is beautiful. Tony murmurs quiet praise as he spreads his fingers and just touches, gets to know all those mind-bogglingly hard planes and inviting valleys as Steve settles down against him. 

When Steve hums in pleasure, Tony pushes himself up, leaning over Steve so he can trace that wonderful chest to Steve’s hard belly, then down to a path of tiny, golden curls that lead to his prise. He wraps both hands around Steve’s hard cock, admiring the perfectly proportioned length. There’s so much he wants to do, so many fantasies he’s had over the years, he’s not quite sure where to start.

Tony swings himself over Steve’s thighs and gets to work, squeezing and stroking with both hands, ensuring his calluses drag over the sensitive skin. He has a problem, though. He doesn't know what to stare at. There’s the pretty, flushed cock already all but dripping with precome, the mouthwatering stretch of Steve’s heaving chest that’s turned pink with arousal, and then there’s his face. His blue eyes dark with desire, lips pink, soft, swollen after the blowjob; and he’s panting. Then there are the corded muscles of his arms, flexing and straining as he fights to keep still. Tony is in agony. There's so much, and he can only look at one at a time. It’s so utterly unfair.

Abandoning the blow job, he sprawls over Steve as he kisses him, or tries to. His lips graze Steve’s chin, missing when Steve surges up under him, wrapping his arms around Tony at the same time.

“God, you are so hot,” Tony murmurs, wiggling one hand back around Steve’s cock to jerk him fast and quick, twisting his wrist on the upstroke to draw out almost silent, heavy breaths. He finally manages to fit his lips to Steve’s, their noses bumping together before Steve shifts them both.

Suddenly they’re kissing, hot, wet, and messy. Steve is more eager and forceful than Tony expected, pushing his tongue into Tony’s mouth the same way his hips are pushing his cock into Tony’s slick fist. Groaning, Tony sucks on the slick muscle, then licks his way into Steve’s mouth. He retreats, teasing his lips, nibbling and sucking, before letting Steve claim his lips again. 

It doesn't take long for Steve to come. His hips move faster, breath stuttering as he groans his pleasure straight into Tony’s mouth. Tony feels the hot splash of come over his fist and belly where they’re pressed together. They don’t stop kissing though it, Steve shuddering through his orgasm, as he fucks Tony’s mouth with his tongue. 

As Steve’s shudders taper off, Tony gentles his touch, milking the last dregs of pleasure from Steve’s incredible body. Their kisses gentle as well, sweet and soft, lingering and tingling where Steve’s bitten him.

“If you don’t stop,” Steve says against his lips, “I’m going to get hard again.”

“What?” Tony freezes, his hand cupping Steve’s softened cock.

“The serum’s a bit like Viagra, except it doesn’t just get hard. It gets hard when stimulated, no matter how many times I’ve come.”

Tony opens his mouth, closes it, and then says slowly, “That sounds like you’ve tested it before.”

“Perhaps.” Steve smirks and presses a chaste kiss to Tony’s lips. “I admit to nothing.”

“No,” Tony says quickly, “you have to tell me. How many times before you quit?”

Steve hums, shoves forward, and bodily rolls over Tony to aggressively snuggle him. Tony squawks, but he’s really no match for Steve’s strength. Not that he’s sure he wants to fight this particular urge; aggressive cuddles are rather nice. He’s pressed to Steve’s chest, firm arms wrapping about his torso, and is practically smushed into his mattress. Surrounded by Steve and held firm.

“I will get an answer,” Tony grumbles.

“Mmhmm,” Steve says, and Tony is pretty sure it’s not an actual agreement. “Sleep.”

“‘Sleep,’ he says,” Tony whines, “but I don’t wanna.”

“Tony,” Steve huffs, amused, “I’m not going anywhere. You have plenty of time to do whatever it is you’re thinking about.”

Tony is not so sure about that. He’s not sure there’s enough time in the world to do to Steve everything he wants. Though, he reasons, one of those things is to fall asleep in the man’s arms, and that’s what’s on the table. So… win-win, but first…

“Did you keep the outfit?”

“What outfit?” Steve asks, straight-faced and innocent, and Tony actually whimpers.

“Come _on_ ,” he doesn’t whine. He _doesn’t_.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Steve.”

“What outfit?”

“I hate you.” He doesn't, but he can’t deal with never seeing Steve in the outfit. It would be a crime.

“Sure you do.”

Huffing, Tony pushes his face into the dip between Steve’s pecs and closes his eyes. It’s… really nice here. “You’re cruel and heartless.”

“Mm,” Steve hums in agreement, “the kind of man who might deny his lover sex if they don’t go the fuck to sleep.”

Tony gasps, exaggerated and hurt, but makes his body relax. He can take a hint. And, if Steve did throw out the outfit, he can always buy him a new one.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow Cleo on Tumblr ](http://cleo4u2.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Follow Xantissa on Tumblr ](http://xantissa.tumblr.com/)


End file.
